They say my birth and the violence which came before it was the cause of the fracture in the heavens, that my fate was written in the stars by the great painter the moment the sun decided it. That one day, I will either rise to great heights, or fall to great lows. But until I am grown, and until I am tested, I remain on this island, banished from the other gods.
But I have no hatred of this place I call my home, the land of Maris Et Terrae. Cast away from my father the earth, yet also part of him, for I am land, not the sea. Surrounded by my brethren of my other father, the sea, and surrounded by him. My sister in the tides keeps me company on the shores, for I am young.
She tells me of the earth sometimes, that he was kind, but proud, and it angered our father greatly. But she always stresses that the sea became poisoned inside, and his crime was the greater one, rather than that of the earth’s pride. And although the sea says otherwise, I know the tides is correct.
Sometimes I dream of a man with brown hair and green eyes, telling me he will return for me one day, crying as we are torn apart by the sea, who holds me close and refuses to let me go.
But perhaps that is simply a false hope, that the earth will love me as he loved his other children, for he never wanted to bear me.